


Leverage

by Seluvia



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Dom Oswald Cobblepot, Dom/sub Undertones, M/M, Masturbation, Oswald is the new Fish Mooney, Overstimulation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Public Sex, Sub Jim Gordon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-08
Updated: 2019-11-08
Packaged: 2021-01-25 19:03:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21361138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Seluvia/pseuds/Seluvia
Summary: Oswald has Jim under his thumb. And that's the only place Jim wants to be.
Relationships: Oswald Cobblepot/Jim Gordon
Comments: 6
Kudos: 49





	Leverage

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fatal_drum](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fatal_drum/gifts).

> This is a bit of an AU I made, where Oswald became Fish Mooney's heir in every way, and has a stranglehold on the club scene and the interest of one very pent up cop.
> 
> For my bae on their birthday! <3 I'm sure you've read this before, but I hope it's still good, for what it is!

The first time Oswald shows up to the Lounge looking like Fish Mooney, Zsasz snaps a pic and texts it to Jim, along with a string of emojis Jim's shocked Zsasz even knows how to use. Jim is at the Lounge in minutes. If he used his siren to clear the street and was flying down the road, who's gonna call him on it? Harvey? Fat chance, and one look at Jim's phone will make Harvey see the light anyway. 

Oswald is at a table sipping sparkling wine when Jim gets there, and damn if he isn't a vision. The dress he's wearing is clingy in all the right ways, the color shifting from black to silver and back again as Oswald moves, highlighted in blue with the club lights. Oswald's done his hair like Fish's, neater than his old disco vampire look, purple streaks in the front. A heavier touch with the make-up tonight, and Oswald's eyes look huge, his lips are begging for kisses, berry red and slightly parted. Oswald is showing more skin than he ever has in public, his arms and throat and a deep slice of chest pale and soft and inviting. 

Jim is helpless in front of all that skin, the knowing look on Oswald's face bringing an embarrassed flush to Jim's cheeks. Jim doesn't move a muscle, can't even try to, until Oswald bids him to come forward and sit beside him. And oh god, Oswald's thighs are bare where the dress has ridden up. Oswald uncrosses his legs when he notices Jim's stare, and Jim swallows a truly humiliating sound, all desperate want. 

No one can see their lower bodies behind the table, so when Oswald puts Jim's hand on his upper thigh, no one can see the possessive, hungry way Jim's grip tightens. No one can see the blush coloring Oswald's cheeks in the low light either. 

"I wore this for you, Jim. Do you like it?" Oswald prides himself on how even his tone is, despite the pounding of his heart and the heat flooding his body. 

Jim slides his hand a little higher, his fingers just barely brushing something lacy and delicate. "I would give anything for you to let me go to my knees and get under your dress right now." 

Oswald smiles. "You're as far under my dress as you're getting tonight." He takes a sip of his wine, turning more fully toward Jim. "I want to watch you touch yourself." 

Jim snatches his hand back and glances around like everyone in the club is about to swarm their table. "You want that...here?" Oswald shifts again, and Jim catches a glimpse of the scrap of lace that's barely keeping Oswald as decent as any part of him can get. 

Suddenly, jerking off in a public place for Oswald's entertainment doesn't seem crazy at all, and Jim can't get his fly open fast enough. 

Oswald grips Jim's chin, demanding his attention. "Slowly. Impress me, Jim." 

It's a taunt and a command in one, and Jim can do nothing less than his best to put on a show worthy of the man beside him lazily tapping the stem of his glass. Jim knows that Oswald likes the look of his cock, and the way Jim strokes himself a little too rough, like he can't wait another second to come and needs every sensation all at once. 

Jim is trying to hide what he's doing, trying not to fuck up into his hand, trying not to let his head fall back, trying not to moan. There are people everywhere, dancing and talking. Zsasz is out there in the crowd somewhere, no doubt completely aware of what's going on here. Maybe he's watching. Maybe he likes what he sees. The possibility shouldn't be arousing, but it is, a hard shudder wracking Jim's body as he bites his lip. 

"Oh, what was that? Something good must have crossed your mind. Tell me." Oswald's fingers are cool where they touch Jim's neck, lightly scratching at his nape. 

Jim closes his eyes, barely able to get the words out. "Zsasz, watching me do this for you. Seeing how much I want you, what you do to me. What I'd do for you." 

Oswald tugs on Jim's hair, the slight sting making Jim crave a tighter, meaner grip. "You want him to see what a good boy you are for me?" Oswald's voice is all silk, and Jim's hand is flying over his cock. He doesn't care who can see him now, he's too close, bent over the table with his ragged breaths fogging the shiny surface. "I can make that happen, Jim. Victor is never far. His eyes are always on me. Though I suspect you've given him something much more interesting to see." Oswald leans in, his lips against Jim's ear. "I bet he's hard watching you, Jim. I bet he's aching for you. I certainly am." 

Jim slams his free hand on the table when he comes, drawing a few curious glances that quickly dart away. Oswald whispers filth and encouragement, his slender, wicked fingers on Jim's wrist guiding him to keep going, keep stroking, until Jim is gritting his teeth and groaning with oversensitivity. He doesn't dare pull away. 

When Oswald has seen enough and allows Jim to stop, Jim drops his head to the table and just breathes, twitching through aftershocks while Oswald rubs soothing circles on his back. Oswald's voice fades to a pleasing, gentle murmur, a buzz of safety and praise that Jim soaks up like parched earth after a hard rain. A glass of ice water and a stack of napkins appear beside his head, shaking him out of his stupor. Jim knows who brought them before he even looks up. Zsasz. 

"Double F minus for subtlety, but A plus for entertainment, boss." Zsasz is grinning. "Drink up, Jim. You must be thirsty after all that. And be sure to clean up after yourself." Jim can't find it in himself to be ashamed. He feels too good. Zsasz is turning to go when he says, "You know where to find me, boss. For whatever you need."

Oswald smiles, giving Jim's nape a little squeeze. "I'll keep that in mind, Victor. I will certainly keep that in mind."

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first foray into writing anything for a very long time! If you like this or wanna see more, let me know! Feel free to come yell about Oswald with me on tumblr, I'm oswobblepot over there!


End file.
